The Broken Boy and the Dreamer
by BlackAndExpensive
Summary: Phil was a dreamer. Dan was alone. Phil see's the homeless seventeen(almost eighteen) year old Dan working as a prostitute for money. Desperate to give him a comfortable bed to sleep and warm clothes to wear, Phil decides to help out the broken boy. It isn't that easy, though. Will they end up together? Or will the dreamer chase his dreams and leave to broken boy to be destroyed?


**hey! so idk what this is it's just something random i guess.  
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_Phil was a dreamer._

His head was full of creations, mysteries, games, and art. He was so careful and graceful whenever he walked, making sure he didn't step on any snails or bugs for that matter. He was so full of life. He would often get sent out of his classes for daydreaming instead of doing algebra or anything he wouldn't need for his later life.

But Phil Lester was _not_ born this perfect.

He was ignored, unloved, and unwanted by his parents. It wasn't as if they had kicked him out or he ran away, they would often yell and scream at him until tears were falling from his eyes. Phil grew up teaching himself how he could be a better person than his parents were. He build his own imaginary wonderland, where he could block out his parents yelling and listen to the sound of an unknown voice talk to him, telling him of his worth and his value. He just listen to the soothing voice and waited for his parents to leave him alone.

"Phil, are you listening to me?" His focus was torn away from the voice inside his head as he was being shook back to reality. Phil held back a sigh and smiled apologetically at his friend. His friend just sighed and shook his head in a disappointed way.

"Sorry, Chris. Say again?" Phil asked as he sipped his water. He spent his lunch break listening to his friend rant on and on.

/ /

_Dan was alone._

From the age of 5, he was left at a care home for children. He never questioned why he was there as he grew older, he never really wanted to know, either. He was quiet, lonely, and sad. He continuously wrote the same thing over and over on the inside wall of his closet repeatedly.

He would never think of being taken away into a loving family, as he knew he would be an unwanted waste of space once again. When he reached the age of thirteen, he stopped caring. He stopped caring about his health, his safety, his life, and himself. He stopped looking both ways before he crossed a street, he stopped wearing a seatbelt, he stopped locking his door at nights, he stopped counting the sleeping pills he took, he stopped eating.

However, Dan Howell liked this care home.

He'd grown attached to his only friends he made there, Pj and Louise. Although he had stopped caring, they never did. They would always make sure Dan was safe in all situations. One of them had to be with him when he crossed roads, they'd count out his pills after he took them to make sure he'd not overdosed, they'd always sit close to him during long drives to make sure he wouldn't fly out the window in a crash. They even went to his room late at night and locked the door and unlocked it just before he woke.

They were the only people Dan felt love from and towards. However that was not the case. The workers Pippa and Stan always made sure he had at least three meals a day. He never noticed though.

When Dan had turned eighteen, he was forced to leave the care home. He was excited yes, and so were his friends. But he failed to realise he had no where to go. That was when Dan had given up completely and gone to the only way he could survive.

/ /

Twenty-two year old Phil Lester sat in a vacant coffee store on the dodgy side of town. He sat with a notebook in his hands and stared out the grubby window and to the beautiful sunrise. He watched as the homeless people took cover to block out the sun and an instant guilt washed over him. He left the store and walked over to a skinny frail brunette boy who had stumbled out of an alley way and fell to his weakened knee's, his curly hair was messy and his white shirt was ripped and dirty. He had no shoes and shorts that ended above his knee's. Phil frowned as he reached the sickly thin boy.

"Uh-excuse me?" Phil said awkwardly. The brunette looked up at him, his dull brown eyes showed no sign of emotion.

"What?" He asked, his voice hoarse and weak. Phil shrugged off his new, thick black coat and crouched down in front of the boy, who had physically flinched away and hid his face from view.

"Please not this early in the morning, I-I can't do it, please don't. Any time after twelve will be okay!" The brunette pleaded as he shielded his face with his hands. Phil frowned.

"What? What are you on about?" He asked, confused and now worried.

"Wait... you don't want to sleep with me?"

"Why on earth would- nevermind, kid. Here, have my coat. It's cold as and you'll get sick." Phil placed the coat on the boy and watched as his frail fingers clutched it and pulled it towards his shivering form.

"Th-thank you..."

"Would you like something to eat?"

"W-what?"

"Come on, I'll get you some breakfast, and definitely some new clothes."

"No... Master wouldn't like that..."

"Who.. who is 'master'?" Phil was now sitting with his legs crossed, in deep conversation with the homeless boy in front of him.

"He owns me..."

Phil suddenly understood what this boy meant, and immediately, his heart sank. He slowly reached out and grabbed the boys pale hand.

"Come on, let's go get something to eat."

Phil led the boy to his car, and made sure Dan was seated before he started the engine. He looked over, and noticed that the younger hadn't put on his seat belt. "Umm.. can you put on your seat belt? Please?"

Dan looked at the seat belt with a look of hate, but strapped himself in, and no later were the two headed to the city. Dan watched with curiousity as the building whirred past him. A childlike excitement gleaming in his eyes as he saw the stores opening and their bright lights shine.

"This is my favourite place to get breakfast, I think you'll like it," Dan and Phil exited the shop and entered a small cafe with a few people seated at the circular tables, "why don't you go choose somewhere for us to sit? I'll get us food." Dan didn't argue as went and sat in the corner. He immediately felt silly, as he'd been carrying the coat like a blanket instead of wearing it. He put his arms through the sleeves and felt the softness against his dirty feet. He pulled his feet up underneath his in an attempt to warm them.

Phil then joined him a few minutes later, two steaming cups in his hands. "They'll bring us our food soon." He said as he placed a cup in front of Dan. Dan nodded.

"What's y-your n-n-name?" Dan asked as he smelled the cup. It smelled of his old care home, caramel, sugar and happiness.

"I'm Philip Lester, call me Phil. What's your name?" Phil asked as he pulled out his drawing book from nowhere.

"Cand- sorry. Daniel Howell. Call me Dan, please."

Minutes later, their food came. Both was bacon, eggs, an english sausage and toast. Dan had never been more grateful for food in his life as the fluffy eggs tingled his taste buds. He savoured the food, as if he were to eat too quickly it would be gone.

Phil was finished before Dan, and he began sketching something the brunette couldn't see. He didn't care what it was, he was just happy he had food.

Dan had finished and he felt good. He had more energy and he finally felt awake as he sipped his drink. He had never felt as lucky as he had when he first met Phil. He had never felt so grateful.

Phil continued to draw in his book.

_'There's a story behind his eyes,_  
_He sits before me, _  
_Beautiful _  
_Delicate and _  
_Scarred.'_

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**i'm not too sure where I'm going to go with this? pls help lol  
also if you liked this then please go check out my other stories  
-Player, player  
-Runaway  
-The Real Me**

**I just did a Tyler Oakley and shamelessly self promoted myself oops sorry not sorry. **


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